Substitution
by DizzyAlice
Summary: Nobody has ever paid attention to Butters. But when Kenny starts to, it develops into a whole lot more. Bunny and minor STyle Kenny's POV.
1. A New Friend

A/N: The first multi-chaptered fic I ever wrote. Yes, of course, it's Bunny =) Although there is a bit of a STyle side-plot, but that's not the main pairing. Narrated in Kenny's point of view. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

South Park (c) Matt&Trey

* * *

No one ever paid attention to little Leopold Stotch. He was invisible, a nobody. The only time anyone ever talked to him was to either torment him, or, in Cartman's case, force him into slave labor. The kid just didn't know how to say no. Even Stan and Kyle picked on him occasionally, and they were hardly mean to anyone.

Perhaps this was the reason I decided to befriend the poor kid.

I had just returned from a particularly long visit to my friends down in Hell. I had been hanging out with Damien for a while, but his overwhelming emo-ness was beginning to drive me insane (not to mention that, as usual, he had kicked me out).

The dynamics in my usual group of friends had changed while I was gone. I noticed it right away. Stan and Kyle kept whispering to each other, being all secretive. Cartman was testier than usual, snapping every time someone so much as spoke to him.

Finally, during lunch, I couldn't take it anymore. I was pissed off and in desperate need of a cigarette. I told my friends I was going for a smoke. Kyle glanced in my direction, Stan mumbled something about cancer, and Cartman only grunted. I rolled my eyes and walked away.

I decided to go to the bathroom furthest from the cafeteria. It was snowing, preventing me from going outside. I decided upon this particular bathroom not because I feared getting caught, but rather because I wanted to be gone for as long a time as possible.

As I pushed open the door to the boy's room, I heard a familiar voice singing rather loudly. Investigating the matter further, I gently pushed the door of the stall that the voice was coming from, which was cracked open slightly.

The small blonde boy sitting inside, holding an apple in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other, jumped as the door swung open.

"Oh, h-hey Kenny," Butters (the aforementioned Leopold's nickname) mumbled, frowning when he saw me.

"Hey Butters…" I started, utterly confused as to why the kid was eating his lunch in the boy's room. "Why are you in here all alone?"

"Well, I don't really have no friends, see, and I-I suppose it's a whole lot less lonely in here by myself than in the cafeteria surrounded by all those other people," Butters explained with a smile so sad it broke my heart.

I frowned, my brow furrowing. "You could always eat with us," I offered.

"What, with Stan and Kyle and Eric? Naw, they don't want me around. They only talk to me when you're gone, and even then they always say, 'well, Kenny would've done it,' or 'why can't you be more like Kenny?' And to tell the truth, I sure am tired of it!" Butters clapped his hands over his mouth, turning red.

I slowly shook my head in disbelief. "You're wrong," I insisted, knowing my friends. "Stan and Kyle won't care. Cartman will act like he cares, but that's when you tell him to shut the hell up and leave you alone."

Butters still remained unconvinced. "Well I-I dunno," he mumbled.

I smiled reassuringly and held out my hand. "Don't worry, I'll be right there with you," I promised. "It'll be fine, you'll see." Butters hesitated, then took my offered hand and followed me back to the cafeteria.

As we came back to the table, I saw things were a bit more normal. Kyle and our favorite fat-ass were having yet another argument. Stan glanced over as I stopped at the table, raising an eyebrow when he saw that I had Butters in tow.

'Don't ask,' I mouthed, taking my seat across from him. Butters nervously accepted the empty one next to me.

"Ay!" Cartman yelled, shifting his gaze from Kyle to Butters. "Who invited the fag?"

"I did," I answered forcefully, glaring at Cartman so that an all-out staring match ensued.

Stan broke the silence with an exasperated sigh. "Just let him stay, he's not hurting anyone," he said.

Cartman's eyes finally broke away from mine with a roll, after which he turned back to his food.

"So anyways," Kyle interjected. "We going to Stan's after school for video games?"

"Oh shit, dude, I just remembered, my mom's having people over or something. Not even I'm supposed to be home, let alone you guys," Stan explained, frowning.

"Well, we can't go to my house, not while they're still putting on the addition," Kyle added. The three of us turned to Cartman.

"Not today," was all the obese teen said.

"Cartman's mom is such a whore she'll probably be over there banging three guys at once," I suggested, followed by laughter from Stan and Kyle.

"Kenny, shut your poor-ass mouth!" Cartman yelled.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, we could always–"

"No. No way. We are _not_ going to your house. You're so hella poor I'll probably just get AIDS or something just by being there."

"Cartman, stop saying hella," Kyle pleaded.

"Shut up, Jew."

"For your information, fat-ass, my house will not give you AIDS. Anyways, I wasn't even going to suggest that. As I was going to say, we could always go down to Stark's Pond. Go fishing or something. We haven't been there in ages."

"Yeah, good idea, Kenny," Stan added. Kyle nodded.

"Fine," Cartman grumbled. "But – but what about that time you died of AIDS?"

"That was sexually transmitted," I replied, winking. Stan and Kyle laughed again, although Kyle gave me a concerned look. I shook my head slightly at him. He knew I got into some bad shit sometimes, but I hadn't in a while, at least.

At last, I remembered something else. "Hey, wanna come with us?" I asked, turning to Butters.

I apparently wasn't the only one who had forgotten about the tiny blonde boy. The three other heads turned to him now. He appeared to have spaced out while staring dreamily at me. He was now glancing nervously between the four of us.

"W-what?" he asked in response to our stares.

"We're going to Stark's Pond after school and I asked if you wanted to come," I explained patiently.

"Jesus, Butters, we were nice enough to let you sit with us, the least you could do is pay attention when we talk to you," Cartman said, annoyed.

"Shut up, fat-ass," Kyle mumbled.

"Aw, gee, Eric, I sure am sorry. Well, I-I would love to go to the pond with you fellas!" Butters said.

I grinned at him. "Awesome."

"Yeah, awesome," Cartman sarcastically repeated under his breath. However, everyone ignored him as Butters smiled back at me.


	2. High Tension

I was excited for going to the pond today. After such a long absence from the realm of the living, I missed hanging out with my friends. Plus, Butters was coming along.

However, I got the strange feeling that Butters was going to try to back out of going. To prevent this, as soon as the final bell rang, I headed to Butters' locker. He wasn't there yet, so I leaned up against it to wait. I saw him approaching from down the hall and waved. He waved back, seeming rather unenthusiastic about it.

"Hey, you ready to go to the pond?" I asked as he went through the process of unlocking and opening his locker.

"I-I dunno if I'm gonna go after all," he replied predictably. Just as I had expected. I frowned.

"Why not? At lunch you said you would love to go," I reminded him.

"Well I know, but I still kind of feel like the other guys don't want me hanging around," Butters admitted softly.

"Oh, come on, I told you they didn't care. Just come with us. It'll be fun, I promise!" I exclaimed, making wild hand gestures as I begged.

He finished at his locker and shut it back up. "I dunno," he repeated.

"Please? If it really sucks, I'll take you home, okay?"

Butters hesitated for a minute more before finally giving in. "I suppose," he mumbled. I grinned widely.

"Whoo-hoo! It'll be fun, you'll see!" Quickly, I grabbed Butters' hand, clutching it tightly as I dragged him along behind me.

The other three were waiting by the time we finally got to the pond. Stan gave us a small wave, but Kyle and Cartman didn't deviate from their newest argument.

"Well at least I'm no dirty stinkin' Jew!" Cartman was yelling.

"Shut the hell up, fat-ass!" Kyle yelled back.

"Hey, hey, I have an idea," I interjected, causing them to both turn to me. "Why don't you BOTH stop arguing, hm?" I grinned and raised both thumbs in the air.

"Kenny, shut your goddamn mouth!" Cartman shouted at me.

I muttered to myself about Cartman being a goddamn whiny little cock-sucking bitch as I flipped the hood of my sweatshirt up. I pulled the drawstrings so it effectively covered more of my face.

"Ay! You got no right to be talking to me that way! Especially when you go around hanging out with bitches like Butters! God, you're almost as bad as Kahl and his little hippie girlfriend lately."

I saw Butters flinch out of the corner of my eye. Suddenly, I felt very protective over the younger boy. "Don't make fun of Butters," I growled at Cartman. As Cartman and I began another stare-down, I vaguely heard Kyle say something about Stan not being his girlfriend, but no one paid him any attention.

"Jesus, guys, what's up with you two today? Usually you get along better than this," Stan interrupted, breaking the silence yet again.

"It's all because of that bitch Butters!" Cartman insisted. A small bout of rage formed deep in my stomach as I shot him another angry look, to which he responded, "Yeah, I said it again! Whateva! I do what I want!"

"I swear, Cartman, I am going to beat you so fucking bad–" I spat, taking a few steps toward him. I was grateful for the few inches I had on the thicker boy as I glared down at him in what I hoped to be an intimidating fashion.

"Aw, gee, fellas, stop fighting!" Butters begged. I think that, although he had been the topic of conversation, due to his silence we had all pretty much forgotten he was even there. We turned to look at him now, myself and Cartman included.

"Stay out of this, Butters, it doesn't involve you," Cartman snarled.

I rolled my eyes. _Yeah, it's just _about _you_, I thought sarcastically, but kept my comments to myself.

"It does too!" Butters insisted. "Now, I don't want you guys to be fightin' like this, not about me, so if it's like you say and I'm the cause of all this, w-well, I'm just gonna go on home right now!" Butters replied loudly. He turned and started to walk away.

I sighed and ran after him. The angry little blonde didn't turn. "Butters, wait up," I called, coming up behind him. I slowed to match his pace. "I'm sorry we were fighting like that, it's just…" I trailed off as I realized I didn't really have an explanation. What, I just felt an overwhelming need to stand up for poor, defenseless you? _I'm sure that would go over _real _well_, I mentally scoffed.

"Look, Kenny, I-I don't really care what the reason was. I just want to go home," Butters sighed.

"At least let me walk you," I offered, not wanting to depart from my new friend just yet. I felt a small wave of victory when Butters consented to this, at least.

Not wanting to go home just yet, and not in the mood to go back to my friends, I took to wandering around town aimlessly, a cigarette loosely hanging from my lips. Usually I wasn't one to over think things (that was more of Kyle's forte) but I couldn't stop finding it weird how I had felt so strongly the need to stop Cartman from picking on Butters. I mean, Cartman was a jerk, we all know that. And it's not like he hasn't picked on many defenseless kids (Butters included) in my presence before. I hadn't felt the need to stop him then. So why now?

It wasn't like I didn't recognize a crush when I felt it. I've been lusting after girls practically since I could form a coherent sentence, and guys for almost as long. But I was confused as the familiar (albeit minor) crush-like feelings seeped into me in the presence of Butters. The kid was so not my type, it wasn't even funny.

And still, I found no reason to stop hanging out with Butters. I knew how much death sucked better than anyone, so usually I tried to live my life to the fullest. I figured I might as well go for it. Who knows, maybe I even had a shot with the kid, although I didn't know what he would ever see in a druggie whore like myself.


	3. Drowning

The next morning, just when I was about to walk into the school, I heard a voice that made me very happy. "Hey, Kenny!" the voice called. I turned at the sound of it with a smile, waving at the short boy approaching me.

"What's up, Buttercup?" I asked in a lightly teasing voice as Butters came to a stop in front of me. He had a determined look on his face, like there was something he badly wanted to say.

"W-well I was just wonderin' something…" he started, his face scrunching up in concentration. It was an expression I found to be particularly adorable. "How come you've been all nice to me lately? You never even talked to me before."

I smiled, trying to quickly come up with a viable excuse to avoid telling him the real reason. I decided to go with the partial truth, the reason I had convinced him to come to the lunch table with me yesterday. "Well, I think everyone should have at least one friend, and you didn't seem like you had any. So I figured I would be your friend."

Butters returned my smile, looking happy as could be. "Well, gee, Kenny, that's awful nice of you."

"Yeah, well–" I began, but was cut off as a large piece of sheetrock slid off the roof and flattened my body like a pancake.

Dying was always a bit disorienting. One minute, you were standing there in the realm of the living, having a nice conversation, and the next, you were hovering over your own dead body as an intangible spirit. I blinked for a second, wondering why my feet had suddenly started to float by Butters' head, then looked down and noticed the gore of my body on the ground. The sheetrock had done quite a good job of killing me, I hadn't felt a thing, but it had certainly made a mess. My own blood was spattered along the pavement, and… was that a chunk of my arm over there?

I turned back to Butters, blinking. I realized I would have to wait at least a few days before being alive again to see him. "Fuck," I mumbled. "Fuck! Fuck fuck fucking shit FUCK!" I was distracted by a scream that wasn't my own. "Oh Jesus!" shouted a distraught Butters, falling to his knees in front of my flattened body. Stan and Kyle were passing by as they made their way into the school.

"Oh, my god, they've killed Kenny," Stan said in a monotone voice.

"You bastards," Kyle finished with no emotion whatsoever.

Butters turned and glared at them. They gave him a puzzled look. "One of your best friends just died, and you don't even care!" Butters screamed. "What is wrong with you?!"

I grinned. He cared. Someone actually _cared_ that I died. I couldn't remember another time that someone had done this for me. I managed to make my spirit float a little closer to Butters, so I could lean down and kiss him on the forehead. He didn't seem to notice anything.

"Dude, it's just Kenny. He dies like, every day. He's gonna come back," Stan said.

"What if he doesn't, huh? Maybe this time he won't come back! And besides, even if he does come back, you should still care a little bit that someone, one of your friends, no less, just died in front of you!" I could see the tears beginning to form in Butters' eyes, threatening to spill over. Wow, Butters was getting really upset over this.

"Well why are you freaking out so much? It's not like you haven't seen Kenny die before," Kyle pointed out.

"H-he was never my friend before," Butters replied in somewhat of a dazed manner as he returned to his feet. His tone of voice made it sound like he was only just realizing this now.

"Thank you," I whispered in his ear, kissing him once more, his hair this time, before he disappeared inside the school building. I would have followed, but a moment later an angel appeared and dragged me off to heaven.

Going to heaven was a rare thing for me. Where I went after I died depended on what I did since I had returned to earth last. For instance, this time the only thing I had really done was be nice to Butters, which I supposed qualified as a good deed.

I had to say, for all its bad rap, I preferred Hell much better. The people there were much more interesting. Heaven was just filled with a bunch of freaking Mormons.

The only advantage was that I usually had a speedier return to earth from Heaven.

I spent the next two days of my afterlife recounting tales of various parties, adventures with drugs, and multiple sexual escapades. Finally, I managed to find myself back on earth.

I don't really know how I get back. I just know that it happens. I kind of convinced myself that I get kicked out of wherever I was, but not only does this not always apply (because I don't always piss people off as much as I claim to), it just doesn't make sense. All I know is, one minute I'm up in Heaven, the next I'm standing on the ground in front of the school, exactly where I died.

I blinked in the bright afternoon sunlight. I figured that school had only just let out, but the building was already fairly deserted. I jogged off campus in an attempt to go find one of my friends, hopefully Butters.

I figured Kyle would probably be at Stan's house. The addition was still being put on to Kyle's house, so he didn't go home too often. Usually he could be found wherever his best friend was.

Cartman was probably somewhere eating something. I didn't know, and frankly didn't really give a shit.

The only person I saw that I knew out in town was Clyde. I went up to him. "Hey, Clyde."

"Oh, hey Kenny," the brunette responded in nasally, monotone voice. Clyde had always seemed very bland to me. Lacking in personality. Other than being an overly sensitive crybaby, that is. "What's up?"

"Have you seen Butters around?" I wanted to know. Clyde, thankfully, nodded.

"Yeah, I just saw him a few minutes ago. He was heading in the direction of Stark's Pond."

"Thanks," I said, turning to leave. "Catch you around."

"Yeah, see you."

I jogged off towards the pond. As I got closer, I heard voices. I couldn't tell what they were saying yet, but I recognized both of them. One was Butters. The second was none other than Eric Cartman.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, breaking into a sprint now.

"…he died again. I bet you miss him an awful lot," I could hear Cartman coo, his voice sounding sympathetic in an overwhelmingly fake way.

There was a pause before a response came. "W-why don't you just shut the hell up and l-leave me alone, Eric," Butters said, his voice shaking but still managing to sound forceful. I grinned. It seemed he was taking my advice.

"Woah-ho Butters!" Cartman yelled, pretending to sound surprised. "Getting angry! Trust me, Butters, you don't want to pick a fight with me."

Finally, I came through the grove of trees and had a clear view of the pond. Cartman and Butters were out all the way on the end of the dock, which rested at about 10 o'clock from my position. Cartman was towering over Butters, looking very intimidating. Even though Cartman was only of an average height, Butters was so much shorter that the obese teen looked like a tower next to him.

Butters, however, was not backing down. "Leave me alone, Eric," he repeated forcefully.

Cartman muttered something that I couldn't hear from my distance, and turned to leave. Butters visibly relaxed, turning away from the brunette. My eyes widened and I started to sprint again. I knew it was never a good idea to turn your back on Eric Cartman.

Sure enough, Cartman paused, seeming to be contemplating something, then reached out a hand and shoved Butters into the pond. Poor kid never saw it coming.

I ran onto the dock just as Cartman was strolling off it. "Uh-oh, Kenny, I think your girlfriend is in trouble," he muttered at me with an evil grin. "Better go save him. I think he might be drowning."

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman," I yelled, not pausing as I rushed past him. Finally I reached the end of the dock to discover that Butters was, indeed, drowning. He was flailing wildly, scrambling to try and grab onto the dock, but his hands kept slipping. I stuck out my hand and he clung to it, not even seeming to realize what it was. I hauled him up onto the dock, where he sat, gasping for breath and dripping.

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned.

Butters coughed, spitting out a considerable amount of water. "Y-y-yeah, I-I'm f-f-f-fine," he managed to sputter out through his wildly chattering teeth. He was shaking uncontrollably from the cold.

My brow knit together in worry. I yanked my orange sweatshirt off over my head, leaving me in nothing but my plain white short-sleeve undershirt. I always felt awkward without my sweatshirt, but I was willing to sacrifice it for Butters.

"Here, take this." I held the sweatshirt out and he took it with a shaking hand. Finally, after seeing the sweatshirt, he looked up at me.

"K-K-K-Kenny?" he asked in disbelief. He yanked the sweatshirt on over his head.

"Jesus, I've been gone for two days and you have to nearly get yourself killed? I thought dying was supposed to be my area of expertise," I joked weakly.

Butters just stared at me, snuggling deeper into my sweatshirt. I tried to think of something to say to make him feel better.

"Hey," I started quietly, crouching in front of him. "Did you know that, when you die, your soul hangs around your body for a bit before getting dragged off to heaven or hell or wherever?" Butters mutely shook his head no. "Well, it does. And this time, I saw. I'm sorry you got so upset about me dying… but it was really nice of you to care so much. As you noticed, no one really cares when I die."

When Butters smiled at me, my hand twitched in his general direction. It was involuntary, the need I felt to pat him on the head, or ruffle his hair, but I stopped myself, not wanting to freak him out any more than I already had.

Butters smiled. "Well, I figured if we were gonna be friends I better start caring about you," he mumbled, his shivering finally starting to control itself.

I grinned in return. "Thanks. I don't know why no one ever wanted to be friends with you before, you're so damn nice…" I paused, contemplating. "Too nice, maybe."

"Wh-what do you mean by that?" Butters asked, confused.

I felt myself begin to frown, and quickly recovered my smile. "Maybe I don't deserve you is all." It was the truth. I didn't deserve Butters. I was nothing. I was dirt poor, constantly fucking up, not to mention a bitchy whore. Butters, on the other hand, was the picture of innocence. He could do no wrong. I didn't see how the equation equaled out.

"Don't say that," Butters replied softly. "You were the only person who was ever actually nice to me. You saved my life, Kenny."

I sighed. How was it that this kid had had no friends before me?

"Speaking of that, he had no right to shove you into the pond," I growled, remembering Cartman's evil deed. Suddenly, I looked back at Butters, hopeful. "Want me to kick his fat ass?"

"What? No! Don't do that, Kenny," he begged.

"Fine," I grumbled, a little disappointed. Beating Cartman up was _fun_. Especially since he always thought that he was stronger than me. It was nice to prove him wrong. "But only 'cause you told me not to," I added.

"Oh geez, what time is it?" Butters asked suddenly. "I have to get home and dry off before my parents get there, if they find out about this I'll be grounded for sure!"

"They would ground you for getting pushed into the pond?" I asked, my eyebrows quirking in disbelief. I mean, I knew his parents were strict, but geez!

"They ground me for all sorts of things," Butters replied. "I wouldn't put it past them to ground me for this." He finally stood up and started to walk away. Seeming to remember something, he paused and turned back to me. He yanked my orange sweatshirt off over his head. "Here," he said, holding it out to me.

I smiled at him, getting to my feet as well. "You keep it. You're probably still cold, and I've got another at home." I hadn't noticed the fact that Butters was still shivering, and it's not like I was lying when I said I had another. I always kept a spare in case something happened to my original sweatshirt. Besides, I liked thinking how Butters would be able to keep a little piece of me with him.

"Thanks for everything, Kenny." Butters smiled in return, clutching the sweatshirt to his chest.

"No problem, kiddo," I replied, at which Butters turned and walked away. I stared after him until he disappeared through the patch of trees, not even noticing that I myself was now shivering.


	4. Gifts and Suspicion

The next morning I found that I had arrived at school uncharacteristically early. It would be the first time I would see any of my friends (other than Butters, of course) after coming back. I wandered slowly onto campus, looking around as I searched for them among the few people who were already there.

Finally, I spotted Stan and Kyle at one of the picnic tables under a nearby tree. Stan was perched atop the table, Kyle standing in front of him, facing the black-haired boy. Kyle's hands rested on Stan's knees as he leaned forward to talk to his friend in a hushed voice.

Not thinking anything of it, I strolled over and plopped down next to Stan. Kyle stopped whatever he was saying abruptly, which was weird. I gave him a look.

"You don't have to stop talking," I told him. "Just pretend I'm not even here."

"Kenny, I really need to talk to Stan in private right now," Kyle replied, his gaze hardening. It was only now that I noticed that something was off. Kyle was acting protective over Stan, which he usually did, but not towards me. Peering around Kyle, I noticed an odd expression on Stan's face. It was somewhat of a combination of guilt, sadness, worry, fear.

"What's going on?" I asked, concerned now. I didn't like seeing my friends upset. "Is everything okay?"

Kyle sighed. "Everything is fine, okay? I just really need to talk to Stan right now. Alone."

I nodded, frowning. "Fine. But if you need anything, come get me, 'kay? I'll be out back. I need a smoke."

"Yeah, sure," Kyle mumbled, turning back to Stan. I got up off the table and walked away.

Just as I was leaving, I heard a faint whisper from Stan. "I'm scared," he murmured.

"I know," Kyle responded softly. "But I'm here. You know that. I won't let anything bad happen."

As I rounded the corner to go behind the school, I wondered what the hell was going on with those two. I hadn't seen Stan so upset in a long time. Sighing, I pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a deep drag as I slumped against the wall.

I don't know how long I had been spacing out for before I was brought out of my stupor at the sound of my own name.

"K-Kenny?" called a nervous voice. I turned towards its origin, exhaling some smoke.

"Hey, Butters," I replied with a soft smile. I felt very tired all of a sudden.

"I-I have your sweatshirt," Butters told me, pulling the mass of orange fabric out of his backpack. He held it out to me. I hesitated, then took it.

"Thanks." I took another drag of my cigarette, turning to lean against the wall again. As an afterthought, I added nonchalantly, "You could've kept it, you know."

"W-what?"

"The sweatshirt. You could've kept it. I wouldn't have asked for it back."

"Well I-I figured you would want it back," he replied, sounding confused. Little did he know, I almost would have preferred for him to have held onto it.

I shrugged. "I've got this one," I told him, gesturing to the identical sweatshirt I was wearing. "If you want the other one, you can keep it."

"Oh. R-really?" He sounded hopeful, like he really did want to keep my shirt. I held it out and he took it eagerly, clutching it to his chest. "Gee, thanks, Kenny!"

I chuckled softly. "No problem." Unable to resist the urge this time, I reached out and ruffled Butters' hair. He grinned up at me.

The five-minute warning bell rang. "Oh geez, we're gonna be late to class!" It was so adorable how he got all worked up about tiny things like tardiness.

"You go on, my class is right inside, I'll make it," I lied, not budging an inch. I felt Butters would disapprove if he knew I was planning on skipping homeroom. I placed my cigarette back in my mouth as Butters disappeared inside.

The following few classes passed in a daze. Finally, the bell rang, allowing us to go to lunch. I sat with my friends, once again with no food. I usually just stole stuff from the other three. Stan didn't seem as though he would be eating much today, so I figured he was my safest bet.

Apparently whatever had been going on this morning was still in the process. Stan wasn't saying a word. In fact, the only thing he did say was when Kyle joined our table.

"I did it," Stan mumbled sadly.

Kyle looked over at him and smiled gently. "Good job. I knew you could. Are you okay?"

Stan said nothing, just shrugged helplessly. Neither of them would answer my questions as to what had happened. Finally, I gave up.

A minute or two later, I noticed a significant absence of Butters. I desperately hoped he hadn't gone back to hiding in the bathroom. Turning in my seat, I scanned the cafeteria, eventually spotting him. He stood off to the side, having an anxious conversation with Craig. _That's weird_.

As I observed, I noticed Butters glance in my general direction. Craig followed his gaze, staring at our table. As his eyes connected with mine, Butters turned a lovely red hue. Craig turned to Butters to say something, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. He glanced over at me again once he finished talking. It was pretty obvious what they were discussing, but why on earth was Butters talking to Craig about me?

All of a sudden, a blonde girl with curly hair ran up to them – Bebe Stevens. She appeared to be sharing some gossip. I followed their glances, and discovered something new. They were all looking at Wendy Testeburger, who appeared to be in a very distraught state of mind as she was comforted by many of her friends. I looked over at Stan again. Maybe that was why he was acting so weird today. He dated Wendy on-and-off; maybe they had broken up again.

I looked up as Butters took the seat next to me. "Hey, what were you talking to Craig about?" I asked immediately.

"The more important question is _why_ were you talking to Craig? God, I hate that bitch," Cartman added before Butters had a chance to answer my question.

"Oh, I-I just wanted ta ask him somethin'," Butters replied nervously. In an obvious effort to change the topic, he pointedly shifted his focus to Stan. "B-but then Bebe ran up, and told us about how Stan broke up with Wendy!"

"Oh geez," Stan muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, as was his habit. "Why does gossip in this school have to travel so fucking fast?"

Ah, so that's what was going on. Although it was a bit odd that Stan had been the dumper this time. Usually it was Wendy who left him.

Kyle placed a comforting hand on Stan's back, but seemed oddly glad that Stan no longer had a girlfriend. He caught my eye and raised a brow at me, as if to question what I was staring at. I just rolled my eyes and looked away.

It wasn't like Kyle to keep secrets from me. I considered him to be my best friend, even though I knew that for him, Stan would always come first. But Kyle and I told each other everything. He knew things about me that no one else did – for instance, how I had lost my virginity as a 12-year-old victim of rape and murder. That wasn't the kind of thing you went around telling people. But Kyle knew many of my secrets, and I felt I could trust him for that.

I had thought that he felt he could trust me the same way, but I guess not.


	5. Horrible Movies With a Side of Ike

We made plans to go to the movies after school. It was a Friday, after all, so it's not like any of us had to be anywhere. I was early, the first to arrive. Kyle came next, with a spare person in tow.

"Hey Kyle, hey Ike," I called upon spotting the duo. Ike walked nervously next to his big brother. He didn't much like hanging out with us, I knew. I didn't really blame him, though. The four of us were such a tightly knit group that I would have felt awkward as an outsider too.

I had always liked Ike. He was a cool kid. Amazingly smart for his age, he had even skipped a grade. He also idolized Kyle. He dressed like his brother, walked like him, talked like him, even styled his hair in a way that Kyle's would have looked, had it been straight and black (and not hiding under that stupid green hat of his all the time). I thought it was adorable.

"Hey, Ken," Kyle responded. "What's up?"

I shrugged. "Just waiting. No one else is here yet." As I spoke, both Stan and Cartman strolled into view, approaching from two opposite directions. Ike hadn't said a word yet. He was generally a pretty quiet kid.

I noted that Stan seemed in a significantly better mood than he had been earlier today. No doubt he had had a lengthy conversation with Kyle – Kyle always seemed to know how to cheer his friend up.

"What's _that_ doing here?" Cartman asked, sneering in Ike's general direction. Kyle rolled his eyes.

"My parents said I have to watch him," Kyle explained. "Nothing I can do about it." I noticed that the young Canadian boy had slowly edged to hide behind his red-haired brother.

"No," Cartman insisted. "He's not hanging out with us."

"It's not my fault!" Kyle retorted. "I have to watch him!"

"It's okay, Kyle," Ike said quietly. "I'll just go home. I won't tell mom and dad that you weren't watching me."

"No, Ike. You're staying with me."

"Look, Kahl, he can't come to the movie with us!" Cartman repeated angrily. I rolled my eyes and smiled at Butters, who had just joined our group.

"He has to, Cartman. My mom says I have to watch him for the rest of the day. He has to stay with me." Kyle's tone of voice said that there was to be no further discussion on this matter. Ike peeked around his brother's body. I winked at him, and he gave me a small, nervous smile.

With more whining from Cartman, we finally entered the theater just as the movie began. There were very few other people in there, but it was so dark that I couldn't even tell who they were.

We took our seats, myself in between Butters and Stan, with Kyle, Ike, and Cartman on Stan's other side. I found that, during the course of the movie, I subconsciously leaned closer and closer to Butters. Once I discovered what I was doing, I quickly straightened my spine, trying to pay attention to what was going on in the movie. It was some stupid war thing, with lots of gore and almost no plot.

Not only was the movie horrible, and Butters was sitting too close to me, but Stan and Kyle wouldn't shut up. They were whispering to each other the whole time. I couldn't tell exactly what they were saying, but of what I heard it sounded like mostly hushed flirting. It was about halfway through the movie before Stan's hand found Kyle's, and there it remained.

I rolled my eyes. I should've guessed what was going on with those two. It was only a matter of time – in fact, I was surprised it had taken this long at all.

The movie finally came to a crappy ending in which the main character died. The six of us made it out of our seats and went blinking into the sunlight.

"What did you think of the movie?" I asked Butters.

"Wh-what? Oh… It was okay, I guess," he responded. I grinned. He didn't seem the type to dig shitty war movies, so I figured that he had paid even less attention to the screen than I had. "I should get going. My parents will be looking for me."

I frowned, kind of sad that he had to leave so soon, but I said goodbye and watched him on his way.


	6. Craig's Party

The next afternoon, I was getting excited. Craig's parents were gone the whole weekend, and he was having a huge party. I hadn't been to a good party in what felt like ages. I couldn't wait. I was half hoping to see Butters there, but I got the feeling he usually didn't even know about these types of things, let alone go to them.

Finally, when it got late enough, I texted Stan: Hey, you going to the party?

It took longer than usual for his response to come: Yeag me adn ky r go1inh somn bt wre getvin rdy

I stared at the phone for a few minutes, trying to decode Stan's atrocious texting. I determined that Kyle was at his house and they were getting ready to go to the party. I rolled my eyes. Kyle must _really_ be distracting Stan to make him type so badly.

I replied: K well stop making out cause im coming over and that is not something i need to see.

A quicker response and a more legible text this time – Sick, dude! See you soon.

I chuckled. It was pretty obvious to me what the two boys were doing when I texted them, but I just shrugged it off, walking out the front door on my way to Stan's.

I didn't bother knocking on Stan's front door as I wandered inside. We were good enough friends that things like that didn't matter. I jogged up the stairs to his room, making sure that this time I actually did knock.

"Is it safe to come in?" I called. The door opened to an annoyed Stan.

"Shut up, dude," he replied, whacking me on the head. I grinned, rubbing the spot where I had been hit.

"So, we ready to go?" I asked, following Stan into the room, where Kyle sat on the bed.

"Just about."

It was only a few minutes later when we exited Stan's house once again. There was definite excitement as we began the walk to Craig's house.

"Guys, please don't get too shit-faced tonight," Kyle, the usual sober one, begged. He stared pointedly at me. "I really don't feel like dragging you home."

I rolled my eyes. Stan grinned. "Okay, mom," he replied. I laughed at this.

The party was already well under way when we arrived. I could hear the pounding bass from down the street. As we wandered into the house, it seemed that quite a few people were visibly drunk. There was alcohol around there somewhere.

Sure enough, in the kitchen, there were cans of beer lined up all around the counters. I immediately grabbed one and cracked it open. "Cheers," I said, banging it against the one Stan now held in his hand. We both took a big gulp. I grinned at Kyle, who was looking on in disapproval.

I separated myself from my two friends, wandering around the party, talking to random people. There were many people I knew there, and many more that I didn't. Well, I vaguely knew everyone in our small town, but I mean on, like, a personal basis.

Halfway through my seventh beer I found I had already lost count of the amount of people I had made out with tonight. I did a mental tally. Sixteen. Twelve girls, four guys. Everyone and their mom knew that I was bi-sexual, and easy, so it wasn't really surprising.

In my current state, I found myself curled up on the couch, having a conversation with a Craig whose drunkenness almost matched my own. Somehow, in my blurred state, I noticed that he was leaning much too close to me.

"Hey," I slurred suddenly. "I saw you talkin' to Butterses… the other day… 'nd wha'… wha' were you talkin' 'bout?"

Craig grinned at me, poking me in the arm. "You," he replied, his nasally voice blurry, as was mine.

"I know that," I said, swatting his hand away. "Wha' 'bout me were you… were you talkin' 'bout?"

Craig shook his head back and forth. "Can't say."

"Why not?" I demanded angrily.

"Promised him I wouldn't." He grinned at me once again.

I leaned toward him more. "Maybe I can persuade you," I mumbled. However, I didn't have to close the remaining distance, because it was his lips that came to meet mine. I pressed deeper into the kiss. He bit my lower lip, signaling me to part my lips for him, which I did. Obviously Craig was a dominant player – plus, he liked it rough. I wasn't so surprised he had kissed me; he was sort of a whore himself, although a much more amateur one than me. I had observed him making out with at least three other people tonight.

He moved his mouth to my neck, kissing and biting all the way. I was clutching onto his shirt, the fabric bunched beneath my hands. I couldn't have let go if I wanted to. And frankly, I didn't really want to. I gasped when he bit down hard on the soft skin where my neck met my shoulder. I could feel him smirk as he moved his lips back up to mine.

I felt someone tugging at the back of my shirt, someone who wasn't Craig. Not even opening my eyes, I waved one of my hands to shoo them away.

"Kenny," said a strict voice. Finally, I turned away from Craig, to see Kyle glaring down at me.

"What." I met his glare with equal intensity.

"I'm taking you and Stan home," Kyle replied. "Stan's pretty fucking wasted, and by the looks of things, you are too. Come on, get up. It's time to go."

"I don't want to go," I responded, pouting. "I'm having fun."

Kyle sighed. "No arguments. We're going, that's final. Come on." He grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. I stumbled along behind him. "Where did Stan go…" he muttered to himself.

We stopped walking next to a doorway. "There's no way you can navigate this place in your condition," he told me. I nodded vaguely. He placed a hand on each of my shoulders. "Stay here. Don't move. Don't go anywhere. I'm going to find Stan." His instructions sounded like he was talking to a pet.

Kyle turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Not even entirely sure how I got there, the next thing I knew was that I was in the bathroom, snorting perfectly straight lines of crystalline white coke with this kid Jay from my Spanish class. I didn't get to use coke much, mostly because it was expensive and I didn't have the money to buy it, but I liked it when I did. It made me feel hyper-aware, like I was on top of the world. I could see details in the smallest things. It was also good for when I was as drunk as I was, because it somewhat cancelled out the blurriness.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Apparently we had forgotten to lock it. I finished the line I was on, then turned around.

"Kyle, hey," I said, grinning as I sniffed and dragged my finger along under my nose.

"Kenny, what the fuck," he replied, in a tone of voice that sounded like he was just about ready to murder me. "I leave you alone for _two seconds_, I tell you to stay put, and what do you do? You disappear and wander off to go get high."

I shrugged. "Sorry, man."

Kyle sighed in an overly frustrated way. "Come on. I'm getting you out of here." He walked forward and grabbed my arm once again, causing me to stumble along behind him for the second time that night. Stan, I saw, was waiting for us just outside the door. He looked pretty bad, but I'm sure not nearly as bad as me.

Kyle brought me home first. He said that he was sleeping over Stan's place tonight. He made sure I went inside before leaving. However, I was feeling restless. I knew I couldn't go to sleep now. I didn't want to be trapped indoors. It was so nice outside. I went back out into the night and began to wander.

Somehow I found myself standing on the front porch of Butters' house. I wondered how I had gotten there. I wondered how late it was. I knew it was pretty late, but not exactly what time. I hoped I wasn't waking anyone up, because I was pretty sure I had just knocked on the door. This suspicion was confirmed when the door was opened by none other than Butters himself.

I grinned widely at my friend, vaguely noticing that he was wearing the sweatshirt I had given him. "Hey, buddy," I slowly slurred. "How's it goin'?"

"K-Kenny?" he squeaked. "What are you doing here?"

"I jus'… jus' wanted to pay my besterestest friend a visit," I managed to say. Losing what little balance I had left, I stumbled forward a bit, requiring Butters to catch me before I fell in a heap on the ground.

"You… you're drunk," he pointed out, astonished.

I blinked as his words settled in, then smiled at him. "I sure am," I replied. I didn't feel the need to mention the coke. My high was already beginning to wear off anyways.

"Kenny, you should go home," my friend instructed. I lazily shook my head no.

"I wanted ta tell you somethin'," I told him, blinking as I tried to remember what it had been. I placed a single hand to rest on his soft blonde hair, staring into his eyes with a very serious expression. "I think you're swell."

He sighed. "C-come on, Kenny, I-I'll walk you home," he told me, stepping outside and closing the door behind him.

"I don'… don' wanna go back there," I mumbled as he led me off the porch. I was stumbling even more than before. I remembered I had come to see Butters so that I wouldn't have to go home yet. "I wanna stay here… with you."

"I-I think you ought to go home, a-and go to sleep," Butters suggested. I frowned, putting my arm around his shoulders. Mostly it was to prevent me from falling, but also just because I felt like it.

The rest of the walk home, neither of us said a word. I came up with a million different things to say, all of which sounded idiotic in my wasted state of mind. _God, I'm so shitfaced right now, it's not even funny_.

Finally, when we stopped in front of my house, I turned to my short blonde friend. "You're much too nice, ya know that?" I mumbled. Without even realizing what I was doing, I leaned forward until my lips were pressed against his. _Eighteen. Four more and I would have a new record._

Butters, however, did not appear too receptive to my actions. He pulled away almost instantly, turning his head to the side.

"Kenny, y-you're drunk, and don't know what you're doin', so just go on up to bed, okay?" he whispered. I hesitated for a minute, still not wanting to leave, but a sudden wave of nausea overcame me. Unable to open my mouth for fear of vomiting, I simply nodded and stumbled along back inside. I really didn't want to make Butters witness me puking all over the place.


	7. A Day in the Park

The next thing I knew, I was coming into consciousness in my own bed. There was some infernal music playing nearby. Blinking as I opened my eyes, I groaned as I realized the music that had awoken me was my cell phone.

"Hullo?" I mumbled after I had flipped the phone open.

"Kenny? Oh, sorry, did I wake you up? It's almost two thirty, dude," Kyle's voice in my ear informed me. I held the phone a bit away from my head, the volume of his voice was making my already splitting headache even worse. "Although I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Stan just got up too, and you were way worse than he was last night."

"Hey, wanna do me a favor and not talk so loud? Thanks," I replied softly. I launched myself out of bed and made my way into the bathroom.

"Sorry," my friend apologized, a bit quieter. "Want me to hang up so you can go back to sleep?"

"Nah, I'm up now, no point." I groaned again as I looked in the mirror above the sink. I had slept in my clothes, my hair was a mess, my eyes were bloodshot as could be. "I look like shit," I said, more to myself than to Kyle.

"I'm not surprised. You got into some crazy-ass stuff last night, Ken."

"I don't even remember half of what happened," I replied. "Only snippets." I examined a few suspicious-looking red marks on my neck. "Dammit, Craig," I grumbled.

"You seem to remember that part, at least," Kyle said. I could almost hear him rolling his eyes. "You remember anything after?"

I started thinking so hard I felt like my brain would explode. The memories were cloudy and most weren't intact, but a few were there. "I remember you dragging me away… and snorting the coke. You brought me home. I didn't want to stay there after you went to go to Stan's house, so I left–"

"You _what_?!" Kyle screeched. Shit. I had forgotten I hadn't been planning on telling him that part.

"Dude! Volume!" I reminded him. "Besides, it's not that big a deal. I didn't go far. And I ended up back home anyways."

"What happened? Where did you go?"

It took me another minute before it came to me. I remembered wandering, and making up my mind on going somewhere specific… then it hit me. "Shit. I went to go see Butters. God, I made such a fucking fool of myself." A few snapshots of him leading me through the dark streets in the general direction of my house, but other than that I couldn't remember anything that had happened until waking up just a few minutes ago.

Kyle sighed. "What are we going to do with you, Kenny," he asked, to no one in particular. I shrugged, but still didn't say anything even when I remembered he couldn't see me. "Hey, me and Stan are heading down to the park in a bit, want to join us?"

"Sure," I said. "I'll probably be a while, though, I have to take a shower, then call Butters and apologize…" I trailed off. "By the way, what happened with you and Stan last night? Anything I should know about?" I asked suggestively.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, in clear denial. "Nothing happened. I took Stan home and he passed out."

"Psh. Liar. What were you two doing before the party, when I texted Stan? He seemed awfully distracted."

"That's none of your business," Kyle said angrily.

"I wish you wouldn't keep secrets from me, Kyle," I sighed a little bit sadly. "I mean, you know everything there is to know about me. Speaking of, you're not going to tell anyone about the drugs last night, right?"

"Of course not," Kyle promised, his voice softer. "You know I would never do that."

"I know. Thanks, man. You're such a good friend." I smiled as we said our goodbyes, snapping my phone shut as I turned the shower on.

I winced when the ice-cold water made contact with my skin. We hardly ever had hot water at our house, and more often than not it wouldn't even reach lukewarm. Goosebumps appeared on my arms as I began to shiver, my shaggy blonde hair dripping in front of my eyes. _Oh well_, I thought, my teeth chattering together madly, _at least now I'm fully awake_. Although it didn't do much for my headache.

After my shower, I felt a bit better, although not much. The redness in my eyes had faded, although, upon examination, the hickeys were more prominent than before. I got dressed quickly against the cold, but my jeans had so many holes in them it didn't help much, seeing as only about half were patched up. After tugging on a plain blue shirt with my infamous orange hoodie over it, I grabbed my phone once again.

The phone was halfway through its third ring by the time a familiar voice answered, "Hello?"

"Hey," I mumbled, noting that the shower had not removed the grogginess from my voice. "It's Kenny."

There was a split second of silence on the other end, short but enough to make me uncomfortable. "Oh, h-hey Kenny," Butters replied, his voice sounding sort of weird. "How ya feelin'?"

"Awful. My head feels like it's going to explode," I told him truthfully. "But more importantly, I wanted to apologize."

"What for?" he asked. As if he didn't know.

I sighed. "For showing up at your house, and acting like such an idiot. I don't even remember what I said, but I know it was probably dumb."

"It wasn't all that bad," he assured me. His voice sounded more normal. It almost sounded – _relieved_. "I-I was just glad that I could get you home safe."

"Thanks for that." That part of the evening, at least, I vaguely remembered. The rest of it… not so much. "Hey, me Stan an' Kyle are gonna go down to the park, wanna come?"

"Sure," he said. "See ya soon."

We hung up. I checked myself in the mirror once more before leaving. My hair was still soaked from the shower, hanging over my eyes in dull blonde clumps. I ran my fingers through it a few times before flipping up my hood to cover it.

Wandering through the park in an attempt to find my friends, I thought a bit harder about the previous night. Try as I may, I still couldn't remember everything that had happened. I sighed, but stopped in my tracks suddenly, jerked out of my thoughts, as I came across a pretty disturbing sight.

It's one thing to know something, to be positive that it's going on, but a completely different thing to actually witness it with your own eyes. I learned this as I observed my two best friends, their arms wrapped around each other, engaged in some heated face-sucking action.

"I _knew_ it!" I said triumphantly, grinning widely. Stan and Kyle jerked apart quickly, turning to my voice. Stan had a wide-eyed expression of guilt on his face, Kyle's was more angry. Both were turning a violent shade of red.

"Relax, I'm not gonna tell anyone," I said as Butters finally showed up. "I mean, it's not really a surprise. Don't think I didn't hear what you two were whispering about in the movie theater the other day, and with all the sneaking around–"

"Shut up," Kyle growled, glancing pointedly at Butters, who had come to a stop beside me.

"It's not like he's gonna care," I said, and I knew he wouldn't. Kyle probably just didn't want to go telling everyone about his new relationship with Stan, but it's not like Butters was one to gossip.

"Care about what?" Butters wanted to know. No one acknowledged him.

"Look, I won't tell him that I caught you two snogging if you really don't want me to–"

"Kenny, shut your goddamn mouth!" Kyle yelled, sounding more like Cartman than I would have ever thought possible. To go on defying the impossible, Kyle proceeded to turn an even deeper shade of red, giving close competition to the hue of his hair.

"Oops," I whispered. I truly hadn't meant to let that slip. Sometimes I just don't think before I say things. More often than not, really. It gets me into trouble. Like right now.

"'Oops' is right!" Kyle repeated angrily. "It's not like I go broadcasting all your secrets around! I have never told anyone about how you whore yourself out for money, or how it wasn't just alcohol you were using last night–" My jaw dropped uncontrollably, my eyes prickling with newly-formed tears. These were things I had told him in the strictest of confidence, things he had assured me he would never repeat. He stopped abruptly, seeming to realize what he had just done.

"You promised you wouldn't tell anyone," I whispered accusingly, the hurt clearly seeping into my voice.

"Kenny – I'm sorry – I didn't mean to–" Kyle didn't seem able to form a complete sentence. I could tell he regretted saying all that, but I was still upset.

"Don't talk to me," I spat. I felt like I couldn't even look at him right now, so I just turned and stalked away. I heard Stan murmuring to Kyle, probably trying to say that everything would be okay, that it wasn't his fault.

I swallowed hard against the large lump that had formed in my throat. I hardly ever cried. There was no way I was going to do it in public.

"H-hey, Kenny?" called a timid voice behind me. "Kenny, wait up."

I spun to face Butters, who was trying to catch up to me. "What do you want?" I asked, my anger ruined when my voice cracked.

"I-I just wanted you to know, I'll still be your friend, e-even if you are a whore!" Butters grinned.

I gave a small smile in return. It was nice to know that I had at least one good friend. "Thanks, kiddo. God, I'm sorry you had to hear all that. Your poor innocence is ruined."

"After hanging out with you four for a week, I don't think there was all that much left of it."

I laughed softly, about to say something else, when all of a sudden his comment made me remember another event of the previous night. Me destroying Butters' innocence. After he brought me home, I had… "Oh fuck," I whispered, smacking the heel of my hand into my forehead. It had probably been his first, too.

"What is it?" he asked nervously.

"I just remembered something else that happened last night," I mumbled, extremely embarrassed. I didn't even look at Butters. "After you walked me home, did I… I kissed you, didn't I." It wasn't a question.

I peeked out in between my fingers in time to see Butters turn bright red and nod slightly.

"Oh God. I'm so sorry," I groaned.

"D-don't worry about it," Butters replied awkwardly. I didn't know how he could tell me not to worry about it. I had acted like a complete ass, kissing this kid who was so sweet and innocent, who I liked beyond reason, who I fully doubted liked me the same way.

"I'm so stupid," I said. "It was just the booze… and, as Kyle so kindly pointed out, the other things… it makes me overconfident, and I do things that I normally wouldn't, even if I may want to, but it impairs my judgment, just like they always say in health class–" I was rambling again. And knowing me when I ramble, I had probably said something in there that I hadn't meant to. Sure enough, Butters interrupted me.

"Hold up," he said. "You said it makes you do things you want to do… but normally wouldn't?"

I felt the blood rush into my face. "There I go again," I said under my breath. Of course he had picked up on that mistake I had let slip.

"So you _wanted_ to kiss me?" Butters asked incredulously.

"Of course I wanted to kiss you!" I replied, my voice growing to a dangerous volume in my frustration. A bit quieter, I continued, "Why wouldn't I? I meant every word I said last night, even if I was out of my mind. I really do think you're swell." I grinned, remembering when I had said these same words last night, but my grin quickly transformed into a frown. "But that doesn't matter. I shouldn't – I shouldn't have forced myself upon you like that. I don't even know how you feel about me. And I doubt that that's what you wanted."

Butters had listened to all this information very quietly, his eyes widened a bit with disbelief. There was a tiny quirk of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"I wanted you to kiss me," he said in a rush, once he was sure I had finished. _What?_ "You have no idea how badly. Ever since you started being nice to me. I-I didn't know what was going on at first, because I – well, I never had a crush on anyone before. But then I asked Craig, and he told me–"

"So _that's_ what you've been having all those secret meetings with Craig about," I interrupted, unable to hide my wide grin. I couldn't believe that he actually liked me back. Not to mention that I was his first crush, even at the age of sixteen. I thought it was adorably sweet. "I saw you talking to him, which was weird, and I couldn't figure it out," I finished. _Yeah, not even after making out with him_, I thought, but didn't find it necessary to say this aloud.

Butters blushed and simply nodded.

I took a step forward, smiling down at my friend. From this proximity, his lack of height was much more noticeable. He had to be about a half a foot shorter than me.

"So you say you wanted me to kiss you," I said softly as Butters stared up at me with wide eyes. "Well then," I continued, beginning to lean down slowly, "I think it's only fair to try again, now that I'm aware of it…" Our noses were almost touching at this point. I closed the remaining distance, gently pressing my lips to his.

It was so much nicer to kiss him when I actually knew what was going on. He didn't do anything for a moment, seeming uncertain of what he _should_ be doing, causing me to confirm my suspicions that he wasn't very experienced in this area. I pressed a bit deeper into the kiss, making sure to take it slow so I didn't freak him out. I lifted one hand and wound it in his hair. He timidly wrapped his arms around my torso.

I slowly pulled away. He blinked at me, smiling a gentle, happy smile. I was pretty sure I had a stupid grin going for myself right about now.


	8. Epilogue: Nothing But Snow

Purgatory really sucked, I decided. I had only been there once or twice in all my seventeen years and countless deaths, but now found myself residing there. I wasn't even completely sure how I had died this time, it had happened so fast.

The only good things about purgatory were that I could first of all stay as a wandering spirit on earth, and it also gave me a lot of time to think. Otherwise, I hated it here.

Mostly I thought about Butters. I was with him in spirit most of the time now that I was stuck in this shitty place. We had only been dating "officially" a few weeks, but I already was feeling things with him I had never really felt with anyone before. I hated being away from him now, even if technically I was still there, but he couldn't see, hear, or feel me.

In such a state, I observed many conversations that never would have occurred if I had been alive and present. Mostly people, upon hearing that Butters was with me, asked if he was worried I would cheat on him. I mean, everyone knows how whorish I am, even if Kyle (and now Stan and Butters) was the only one who knew I did it for money.

Butters' response to such questions always made me smile. He told everyone that he trusted me, and that he was confident I wouldn't do that. And besides, he added, even if I did, he would understand.

I would never cheat on Butters.

It hurt me that Butters was now so upset that I was dead again. I had been gone for close to two weeks now, so I couldn't blame him. They had actually given me a formal grave this time, which was rare. There were only about ten others of those. Butters visited the cemetery every day. I hadn't missed the tears that had formed on more than one occasion.

Today, for example. He was visiting me again. He had brought his usual bouquet, replacing the one from yesterday. The roses were a combination, half of them red for love, the rest white for reverence and remembrance.

As I observed, standing directly behind him, he knelt before the stone. I'll tell you, it's always weird seeing your own name on a gravestone. Kenneth McCormick. Yet another death from the boy who defied all logic.

Butters stared at the stone as well, silent. "Hey, Kenny," he finally whispered. "I-I miss you a whole lot. You've been gone for a while now." He took a shaky breath. "Come back soon, okay?"

It broke my heart to see him so upset. _I'm right here!_ I wanted to yell, but I knew it was useless. He couldn't hear me. I had no control over when I went back to earth, and I could only hope it would be soon.

For now, I had to make do with placing a comforting hand on Butters' shoulder. He turned, as if he had felt it, but his eyes looked straight through me to the snow-covered ground beyond.

**The End.**


End file.
